Break
by maleV
Summary: An offhanded comment earns Piers more than he can handle while Chris teaches him a lesson in following orders. ChrisxPiers, NivanField, BDSM
1. Break

**I had a bad night and for anyone who reads what I write, that means I will take it out on Piers. One of these days I'll get around to writing a fic where Piers doesn't get brutalized, but this is not that day. Happy Holidays all!**

* * *

God, Chris knew how to dish out when he was pissed off. The man had a special talent for taking all his anger and balling it up into this compact swell of undeniable hurt that for whatever reason he enjoyed bestowing on Piers' body. 'Grit your teeth and take it soldier, he'll take care of you later.' He always did. If Chris was mad enough he'd make him wait, take out all his pent-up aggression on him and once he'd had his fill of testing the limits of his control, he'd give the sniper what he deserved. That was of course unless Piers was the source of his frustration. Those were the kinds of nights where sleep would never come and rest was farther from his mind than anything else in the world. Those were the kinds of nights where Chris would make his flesh burn with fire under his skin and touch alone sent pain lancing down his spine and quelled silently in the pit of his stomach. It felt so good to be alive. It felt so good that even through the stinging, agonizing pain, his body arched with every touch and inaudible whimpers would earn him bruising passion. Chris' anger would turn into rage, and he'd use it to torture his partner's sculpted body until he was begging for him to have the release Chris would never give him.

On night's like these it wouldn't matter how close his captain got him, one look from those chestnut colored eyes would silence him into submission, knowing he'd earned every inch of the pounding he received. Chris wouldn't give him release even if he begged him for it, or cried out in searing pain from the exhaustion of keeping silent as Chris took him again for the second time that night, demanding his partner's obedience. His throat was raw from the make shift leash the larger man had strapped together from thick fabric of the rigging that Piers used to hold his mags on his thighs, gnawing into the skin for almost an hour now while Chris stood silently outside his view blowing the smoke of his last cigarette into the room.

It was always like this with Chris. Piers wouldn't have it any other way. He was his captain's partner, the only one who knew his darkest thoughts. It's what drove Piers to him. The things Chris did to him made his skin jump and body burn but it brought the two of them closer, but until after the hate, the rage, and the memories were beaten back. They talked about their fears, their nightmares. This was just another part of what a man who'd seen everything needed. Those horrors had nothing on how Chris wanted to make the world feel, but Piers could take it, all of it. Of course tonight wasn't like that. Tonight, Chris was livid and wanted to strip away all Piers pretty boy attitude and calming demeanor and leave him sore and open to the world for the petulant little boy he was. He deserved to do that much after what Piers had said concerning his captain's botched mission with S.T.A.R.S..

"Do you know what its like?" Chris' voice was rasping deep in his lungs, dragging out of him with frustration that sent a tingle from the tip of Piers' spine to the base, the traces of cigarette smoke lingering there in his voice. "Being out there alone? Not knowing if the man who fought beside you is going to come back to life and tear your flesh off your bones? Sink it's teeth... into your perfect shoulder," Chris' hand was there on his bicep, trailing slowly, and teasingly up the rope of muscle that worked each time fingers clutched at the sheets beneath him like a lifeline. They danced along his bare skin waiting to dig into the bare muscle that flexed beneath him. "What its like, when their need to survive takes over and they finally break," a voice hitched at last, nailed perfectly trimmed digits gripping into taut skin and dragging along from shoulder to bicep, scrapping away flesh and leaving deep lines of red as Piers set his jaw against speaking, fighting back the wince of pain and yelp of shock from having the ever pressing urge to lash out against his attacker. "Perhaps I should leave you out there, begging and pleading for your life from brainless monsters that want to tear these puppy dog eyes from your skull!" _SLAP!_ "Or these pouty lips from your face?"

Heat surged through his face, tingling fire as welts rose in the shape of a hand, Chris' nails biting harder into flesh, pain muffled by brutish lips catching his own and biting into them. Iron mingled in a bruising kiss that forced a moan to escape between the suckling he did to Piers' beads of blood, forcing a tongue to delve into his mouth to tasting the sweat and salt, hints of liquor that distracted from the twisting his hands were doing to the flesh under them, creating foul patterns in scathed blood down to his naval, dipping inside it with a calloused pad. "You'd ask for death before they could get that far. You'd ask me to kill you if you so you wouldn't have to feel the pain of their _disgusting_ flesh tearing away your pretty little façade. You'd _beg_." Lips again, fighting the clash of teeth and scratch of taste buds against each other as Piers' arched his back off the cotton-covered mattress hoping to feel more than the murderous clutches drifting along the musculature of his abdomen. "You think it was all some game Nivans? Like I went out there because of some false threat? I lost men in those fights, in all of them, you want me to lose you too?"

He wanted to answer. He wanted to answer Chris so badly, but he knew the rules. Don't speak, don't fight back, don't beg, and most importantly don't touch. Chris liked things the way he liked them and in this mood there would be more ramifications to him than just a few scratches if he decided to break them. Do what the captain orders and in the end he'd give you want you needed. He'd been at this all night, his muscles sheen with sweat from resisting the urge to do anything more than lay there and take it. Chris wouldn't give him satisfaction this way. He'd fucked him twice and left him there at the edge knowing that if he touched himself or any other part of Chris this would be the least of his worries. An order was an order. He let him come down from the euphoric high of needing that release every time Chris found it, taking time between to smoke a cigarette or enjoy a glass of malt to sooth his throat from the all the drags on the poison he was smoking. He was back at him though, savoring in just taking everything he could from this soldier and giving him nothing in return.

"Maybe you were just a kid, or maybe you are just fucking stupid. I don't ever know which it is Nivans." There was full weight on his hips that made Piers' hazel eyes jump open, finding the muscled taut captain of the B.S.A.A. mounted just over his waist, weighing like a boulder on his diaphragm and forcing air from his lungs. "Is this what you want soldier? What, you do all this for, so you can lay here under me time and time again and take it like a good boy? _This_ is what you want?" Biting anger and frustration, Chris flicked away the butt of his cigarette and reached the so far dismissive hand behind him, sliding it along Piers without caring or kindness before reaching between propped up legs and cramming his thick forefinger inside him, watching vehemently while lips pursed and the heavy heave of the body beneath him went still as his partner forced to stifle groans of pain. There was no time to brace for his middle finger that soon joined it, forcing the air from his lungs and hands gripping white knuckled to the sheets, the strength jarring his entire body. "You think this hurts? Boy I haven't shown you pain yet." Sure he'd already had him, but Chris was ruthless with his touches, his fingers were there to inflict agony, to make Piers leave behind his sanity and beg Chris for everything he wanted. There was pressure and rasping pain behind Piers' eyelids as he squeezed them shut, his muscles twitching as Chris stretched the ring of muscle in his body that he could completely unmake in just a few short seconds. He was stretching him, searching and pressing to find that spot that would make him fall apart, force him break the rules. Chris loved to make him break and Piers loved the challenge. How long could he go without needing to cry out? A rough pad delved deeper inside him, knuckles deep inside his partner's body until it finally found what he was seeking, an already teased and raw place inside him that caused his rigor set body to jump beneath dense weight on his chest. Over and over again until Piers' was biting into his own lip to force back moans that yearned to tumble from his lips, to beg Chris to take away those two thick fingers and replace them with his undeniably better cock, to let him cum when the heat in his stomach spread over him like a blanket.

"Go ahead boy. Beg me. Tell me how bad you want it." Piers lips parted only to have Chris wrench free of him, taking the advantage to lean forward on his knees, the mattress bowing beneath his weight to shove his half hard cock into pouty abused lips. Chris relished in the warm cavern of his mouth, pushing forward until it was almost impossible for the younger soldier to breath. That was the point, take Piers to the edge and then bring him back down time and time again. The vein on the underside of Chris' dick pulsed when Piers' tongue slid along the underside, sucking at his head as long as Chris would allow until he gripped the singular tuft of hair on that well-kept head and crammed everything into his throat, and passed, causing a choke of noise to escape just before no more air could sneak into constricted lungs. Facefucking Piers was a favorite. The color quickly rushed to his face as Chris threw back his head, holding him there against his stiffening cock as it pushed passed his gag reflex, hardening in his mouth. "Fuck." Chris' fingers raked at the base of Piers' neck, sliding so that rough thumbs pressed violently into the flesh of his partner's throat, rocking against him. He knew the affect it would have, the pain and concentration it took not to gag on him and fighting the urge that threatened to envelope him to like bile creep up in his throat passed the swelling flesh that choke him. Piers felt himself flag at the forced air from his lungs and stain of his shoulders against the springs digging into his bare back.

A body can only go so long without air, eyes fluttering shut as he fought against the overwhelming panic to throw Chris off him, or bite down. Chris was trying to suffocate him into submission. It was working as tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, leaking down the side of reddening cheeks, his body jerking from the lack of oxygen to his muscles. Hazel orbs locked on Chris' malicious mahogany one's judging how much further his captain would force him to take this before he'd let him breath again. It was in the way his lip twisted in a vicious smile, relishing in the heat that Piers' mouth supplied and rubbing his thumbs against the flesh of his neck, feeling the pressure on his own flesh within. He didn't need to say anything to know Chris wasn't going to move.

Piers winced feeling Chris' flesh throbbing in his mouth, relenting as his muscles in his arms tightened and gripped into firm hip muscles, wrenching Chris backward off him and grasping the clasp of the rigging at his throat and tearing it open. Choked breaths rasping into his lungs and filled them to capacity over and over. Rolling himself to a sitting position and grasping with his own calloused fingers at the bruised and tarnished sinew. Coughing he kept his eyes carefully trained on the other man who was now standing across the room with narrowed eyes like a jungle cat deciding if its prey would go down without a fight, watching his inferior scrapping for air and letting himself shake until the oxygen deprivation wore off. "Can't even follow orders can you boy?" Low guttural snarls escaped Chris' thinner lips, his barrel chest rising and falling with every breath he took. "Pathetic soldier."

Chris could manhandle B.O.W.s, so it came as no surprise he could do the same to Piers when he really wanted to. For as large as he was, Chris was fast, yanking Piers' up off the bed and throwing him up against foot board of the bed before the man could even react, shoving into him with his huge girth that tore beyond defenses and caused a stream of incoherent obscenities to come broken from Piers' lips. "Hurts doesn't it boy?" Damn right it did. It hurt in all the right ways, and Piers' knew Chris enjoyed leaning him over and taking whatever he wanted. Free from the rules and order, Piers hand wrapped around his own erection, finding Chris' bruising pace easily enough. He'd wanted this all night, but it was bittersweet when a grunt of disapproval greeted his ear, huskily biting in the meat of his shoulder as he pulled Piers hands away from his aching flesh and behind his back, clasping both wrists together. "You don't get pleasure for breaking regs soldier. We can do this all night until you fucking get the point."

Apologize you complete idiot. That's what was going through Piers mind, or had been until he started to lose all ability to think at all as Chris used his wrists and hip as leverage to thrust into that place inside him, making his eyes roll closed and moans burn deep in the pits of his chest and down into his stomach. He was so close from everything that night and Chris had already had what he wanted time and time again, but he knew he deserved it for letting himself fight back. Apologize for being a weak son of a bitch and beg him to let you come undone. Course digging fingers released his hips as Piers body arched, pressing his palm into his lower back, and stilling him there, breathing heavy hot breaths against the sweat on his back, the night air cooling his skin instantly. Lord, Chris had patience. Piers could never have stopped so close. He could feel Chris' cock throb inside him and shifted his body back, hoping for friction and the pulse of bliss that surged through him to just brush against that place inside him one more time. Chris wouldn't let him though, his position allowed him no such contentment and the solid thick palms holding him against the foot board kept him from jerking backward and pleasuring himself on Chris' solid shaft.

"Please Chris."

That was submission. To anyone else just the simple act of saying please wouldn't have meant anything more than to explain what they wanted, but it tightened the knot in Chris' stomach, a thrust achingly slow into Piers as he spoke. It was hearing his name trembled of those wanton lips that said how much this was killing the young sniper. When they were like this is was captain and subordinate, never Chris and Piers. That was too personal for what he needed to do to him. If he saw Piers for anything but a soldier he would have faltered, he couldn't do that until he was willing to give in. Willing to set aside his anger and actually hold the man under him like a person not just a manner of getting out personal motivation. It didn't matter though, Chris wanted to draw this out of him, languish in every moan and gasp he could pull from Piers until there was nothing left in him.

"I'm sorr... Chris... please," he was having trouble forming coherent thought with the way Chris was moving, running his hand from the base of his spine up between his shoulder blades and pressing him forward slowly to examine his body, the drag of their bodies together sending ripples of pleasure through his muscles. "I never-

"Never what? Meant to imply that what happened in Raccoon was somehow my fault? Tell me how that works soldier. Is it my fault the chain of command belonged to a man I trusted? That turned out to be a psychopath? Tell me Nivans, do you trust me?" His words were bitten off, caught in his chest while he sliced his nails into skin, getting flesh and sweat caught under his nails before burying himself with one thrust to the hilt in Piers' ass, grunting from the fire that surged to pool in his gut like a snake. "Having trouble even thinking aren't you. You can't even catch your breath like this, you'll say anything you can to get me to let you cum." Accented thrusts from tip to base shot through Piers, forcing back a shout of pain as his erection wept for it while Chris made certain that each thrust timed with his words, rolling his shoulders to tip his head back and relish in Piers' pain. "You moan like such a fucking whore you know that? Shut up and take it soldier."

Chris chuckled reaching his hand around straining muscled hips to fist Piers' cock, running his thumb over the slit to force a whimper from his subordinate to prove his point of Piers' inability to keep quiet, tracing the head of his cock carefully, the pleasure causing muscles to constrict around Chris' cock, gently rocking into him, almost kindly while Piers gasped, beads of sweat running over his temples and down his jaw. He was on the verge of letting him tumble over the edge, tightening his grip on Piers' member just before releasing him entirely and pulling out of him, dropping his partner to the ground like a rag doll as empty air teased his burning skin. He'd been held up with Chris as support and his knees skinned on the cheap carpet with the inability to brace the fall. Unrelenting hands gripped hold of the back of Piers' head, twisting him before shoving himself into his mouth again. It was all he needed, Chris was close and he wasn't going to give Piers what he had wanted. Chris growled deep in his throat as Piers' tongue drew up over his pulsating cock and sucked along the hot flesh, choking as Chris thrust into his mouth and held him there when he felt himself blinded by white behind his heavy lids. Spilling hot seed with a gravelly grunt of pleasure, Piers swallowed it down, muscles flexing and rippling, clutching the edge of the board for leverage, white knuckled. Shoving away, Chris let Piers catch himself on his palms, a string of cum running down his lip as he looked up begging eyes to his captain.

"Not yet boy. Not fucking yet..."


	2. Mend

A lopsided grin slowly worked over thin lips, tired features coming to life with all the rapidity of a turtle as Chris wrestled with the idea of dragging himself from his rather oversized bed. Courtesy of the B.S.A.A., he was on leave, but that didn't mean that his body clock would ever turn back time and allow him a single day of rest where his eyes didn't bring themselves open every morning at four. Honestly it didn't bother him to rise early and continue with his daily rituals. The problem was if he wanted to get up and do those things alone. He didn't have it in him to wake the man tucked beside his broad chest, working at only his second hour of sleep. They had the same morning rituals, only varying slightly, and Chris, though perfectly capable of doing all those things alone, enjoyed his silent partner running with him in the morning, enjoying his bravado and ability to work unimpeded around him in the gym and the shower. He wasn't certain he was willing to move him just yet from him comfortable place over Chris' bulging bicep on their day off. He had collapsed so briefly ago into Chris, completely exhausted and worn, unable to raise his head or open his eyes. Chris had carried him back to bed from off the carpet and cleaned up after them. He always did. No matter what happened the night before he always made certain that everything cleaned up and put away to make certain his normally spotless apartments remained so. It was that, and what happened at night, was what happened at night, and he preferred that when he woke in the morning, apart from bruises, Piers didn't have the constant reminder of the things Chris did to him.

He was proud of how well his second in command held up to that kind of punishment, night after night. His men hardly questioning how they were with one another because they kept it completely civil. If it were Chris being beaten to a pulp, then he was certain there would be questions on how come he would be limping. Piers carried it all with grace. How a kid his age who had seen so much, still wanted to come back to Chris night after night he wasn't certain. This wasn't for Piers. Everything they did together Piers made certain that Chris got everything he needed, that he was sated before Piers was no longer able to raise his head. This was all for Chris. Piers loved him. How else could he possibly explain this relationship? A hum escaped from still raw tissue, Piers tipping his head against the broad pectorals, ignoring the change in the way lungs rose and fell beneath him. He was still such a boy in some ways, still so young. He hardly grew facial hair at all, and the feeling of his smooth skin on Chris' chest was just another reminder to the thirty-odd-year old was treating a child like punching bag.

Piers deserved kindness. Deserved love. It was just that Chris failed miserably at providing anything akin to love. He had tried so hard with Jill. She was the only person who'd gotten close to Chris, but even still she couldn't handle the repercussions to Kijuju. The nightmares that sent him jolting up in the middle of the night, the nights he couldn't bring himself to come back. He couldn't lie beside her at night to sooth away images of Wesker and all the torment he'd inflicted on them over the years because every time he looked at her he saw the scars of what being with him had left her. He couldn't escape the guilt he felt every time he saw Jill and it was easy to read on his visage, enough so that she walked out on him. Yet somehow, he'd gotten lucky. Chris Redfield had the luck of the Irish, meaning none at all. And yet how exceptionally lucky had had been. Who would have imagined so shortly after Jill had walked away, a man as honorable as Piers Nivans would have found him. And it really had been that way. He had sought him out with those enchanting hazel eyes and sinfully kissable lips and made Chris feel the hurt literally melt away.

He told Chris things he needed to hear. He wasn't afraid of any ramifications and whenever Chris was inclined to battle his points of views Piers stood his ground just as proudly, disregarding any ramifications. He relished in them and demanded that Chris see himself the same way rather than the image that Wesker had painted for him. Piers was always there, and he made certain to make it painfully obvious, he wasn't going anywhere.

"Piers?" He knew it was wrong to wake him so soon after having fallen asleep. But he needed to hear it. A second small nudge rewarded him with a grumble before one eye peered out from beneath sleep heavy lids, the tiny lip curled smile following it as the sniper dragged himself to sit up against the metal barred headboard. He seemed as always, completely unphased by the night before and greeted him only with that same adoring gaze that made Chris' skin shiver. "Tell me again?" Chris had to hear it, needed to hear how damnably sure Piers was without a quiver or doubt lacing in his voice like everyone before him. The request however made his partner sober immediately, sitting poised on the bed with elbows propped on his knees, leaned ever so slightly from his usual perfect posture.

"I'm never leaving you Chris." The tenor of his voice was so stoic and solid that it rocked Chris to his core, and he knew that it was worth having roused his partner just to see that dead certainty in his eyes. "I love you." He leaned forward, wrapping his calloused fingers about Chris' thick neck, pressing his lips to claim Chris as his own. No matter how young or submissive he was to Chris, he made certain the man was aware he belonged to Piers. Releasing him finally from his grip, slipping his fingers to card once through his captain's shorter brown locks. "Don't doubt yourself captain." He chuckled, pulling away the remaining blankets to reveal an assortment of bruises and bites that had been left behind while he rose to get ready for a run. He never missed a beat despite how Chris was staring at the new kind of mark he'd given his partner.

Chris was known to make irrational decisions when he was beating back demons. Certainly Piers was aware he should never have brought up Raccoon City, or implied that Chris could have stopped everything that had subsequently happened by killing Wesker instead of walking away when he had. Of course he hadn't been there, he didn't know, but just like Chris said, he was young and the information he had was the information that the government had allowed in writing. Chris didn't talk about Raccoon... ever. Still, he had always kept their relationship mildly safe. He encouraged, and sometimes regretted encouraging, Piers' sado-masochistic tendencies when they were together, and used it to rationalize his torment of the younger man, but after last night he wasn't certain how alright he was with the nonchalance which he seemed to take towards it. He'd never taken a weapon to Piers before in his life. Never had he so carelessly thought about the skin that covered his lover. Chris had hit him, punched him several times before. The first time they had been together he was almost certain he'd even raped him, and yet Piers was always so reassuring and bright the next morning, giving him the trust he bestowed on him in every facet in their life. But last night? The line of partly scabbed blood still clung to Piers' ribs marring his near perfect musculature. How could he ever do that to him? He'd cleaned his combat knife immediately afterward and sheathed it back in his nightstand, but the remaining mark could leave a scar if it was untreated. He knew Piers well enough to know he wouldn't leave it unattended, but that didn't make it okay to slice up his skin. After last night... he could never let this happen again. They would put this game behind them and he could never do this again, he couldn't allow this to get out of hand.

_Not EVER._


	3. Shatter

**Can't stay away can you Piers...**

* * *

"You talk too much Nivans..." Chris voice was low and silent, his hand tracing each of the stinging lines that split perfect velvet skin. He liked to tease Piers and his inablilty to stay quiet while Chris' hands worked him. Tiny cuts riddled his sides, only two inches in length in some places, but the salt from their sweat had rose to burning in Piers' sides that was making it hard to breath. "You know how long I've wanted to do this? I can't take staying away from you..." It had been two months since Chris had done anything with Piers, they'd busied themselves with every other little thing because Chris was so concerned that he'd unconsciously hurt him last time. However, he couldn't get the images of his subordinate out of his head, writhing and fighting to keep his tongue against all the ministrations that his captain would treat him with. Hell this had been Piers' idea. He'd been the one to come over tonight and force himself inside, tell Chris how much he missed him. At least now he didn't have to worry about pretending, it wasn't like all he was thinking about was putting his knife in him, it was getting to touch that body that belonged solely to him. His eyes raked over flesh, catching his nails on the tiny running wounds along his ribs and pulling down, greeted by the sweet sound of his prisoner's whines. "Quiet soldier... I'm telling you now, this is your last warning." His opposite hand was still wrapped comfortably around his partner's erection, pumping achingly slow while he clawed the shallow knife wounds, tracing the blood's journey from his ribs, down his side with his tongue, trailing back up to his chest and sucking gently at the wound. Piers had been apprehensive about the knife at first, what he'd wanted was time alone with Chris, honestly there could have been serious ramifications to cutting open his partner, but he couldn't help wanting to see what the younger ace was made of, to see if he could really take every challenge he threw at him. The straining erection in his hand was the proof enough that he was enjoying himself.

"You know what Wesker use to say to me? The things he use to do?" He'd been thinking of it non-stop since Chris had told Piers they needed to take a break. Since the day he'd sliced him the first time. He never could remove thoughts like that from his mind, and talking about them generally saved Chris from needing to act out. Wesker was usually the ghost Chris turned to in moments like this, the one he fought to understand but couldn't. They'd been so close and he hadn't understood what made him into the monster he turned out to be. "This was just like... he'd never have been so gentle with me." He was watching Piers' chest heave up and down, gasping for air while Chris spoke, languidly fisting him all the while, examining the expansion of his ribs and how the cuts would seep drops of blood each time he took a deeper breath. He liked pressing kisses against his skin, tasting the blood on him. Blood that wasn't infected or disgusting, blood he had no reason to fear, unlike the shit out in the field. "He liked to do this kind of thing too... torture people. He use to watch us like experiments." Sneering he trailed his fingers up over Piers' muscled arms, the sensitive skin along the underside that was exposed from being held up over his head and tied there. "Does it hurt?"

Piers smiled, watching the genuine questioning behind Chris' eyes before shaking his head almost unnoticeable. "No captain... doesn't hurt." Skin jumped when it felt the cold steel meet the flesh on his abdomen, the point threatening him with a tiny prick just under his naval. How it had ever gotten into Chris' head to use the knife, Piers didn't know but the other hand was far more distracting, pulling every thought and letting it rest in Chris' hands. He trusted Chris, the knife at his stomach concerned him as much as he thought about how to reload his gun. There was no reason to fear his partner, and in honesty it hardly hurt at all, the combat knife he kept was so sharp it could split a hair. It was the one dragging painfully slow over his member that was starting to loosen his ability to keep quiet. This was experimental if anything, they were just enjoying each other and that was the extent of it. They weren't fighting anyway. Chris had asked to tie him down and Piers was more than willing to allow him that, it was something he enjoyed and there was no reason to deny him that. Particularly so with how doting his captain kept asking him if it hurt. "Captain," he sucked in his breath as the knife kept drawing downward toward the sensitive flesh in his hand, drawing a whine from Piers that failed to catch Chris' attention. "Chris?"

"He use to find reasons you know... to make it alright, to say that it wasn't a big deal. Its a fucking big deal Piers...Such a big deal. He was never like this with me." He left his voice wander off, stopping the slid of the knife before pressing his lips to the line he'd drawn, too close too Piers' cock in his hand that it drew a hiss when he licked the skin, letting the iron cling to his lips lapping it away before tipping his head back with a smile. The smile caused Piers to laugh despite himself, shaking his head at how his partner drew his thumb over the line, making a pattern in the jewels of red. "Do something for me?'

"Anything captain."

His voice was barely there, feeling Chris toss the knife back up beside his head before climbing over him, not removing the hand that continued to draw low moans from his partner, instead, running his tongue over him as he slowly slipped up him, pulling his legs around his thicker waist, rubbing the muscle of his thigh. "Call me Wesker..." The question was a demand that brought Piers eyes open immediately on him, concern written on every feature, a hand crushing over his mouth stopping the protest immediately. It was such a precarious place they flirted with between anger and love, but Chris was already there, gone in that world of his that no one else was allowed but a glimpse of. His eyes darkened as he pushed himself through that tight ring of muscle, penetrating Piers in one thrust. All the loving, doting concern flying instantly out the window. Chris had turned this into another one of his games in that quick of a flash. "Tell me what I want to hear... now." Releasing the massive hand from over his mouth he quickly found Piers' hips with both, wasting no time with the lethargy he had before, and picking a pace he knew would have his partner's climax far sooner than his own. He liked watching Piers writhe under him sometimes, to watch how he could completely twist him into something of his own making with those thrusts that aimed perfectly for that bundle of nerves deep inside him. It was no wonder Wesker had done the same to him all the years ago. Was it really so wrong to want to know what it felt like? He'd brought his partner so close to the edge before this that he knew it wouldn't take long, losing the ability to fight back to his demands lost in the lust.

"Captain..."

"Say it soldier!" His voice was a growl, leaning forward to sink his teeth into Piers' arm, yelping at the sudden overdose on his senses. His fingers drifted off his hip, grinding his own body balls deep into his partner and finding the cock between them, running his thumb over the tip and through the precum already there. He was loving the moans and gasps that were slipping out unbridled, pulled out of that lovely chest as it heaved while Chris pounded into him over and over. "Come on soldier, say it. If you want me to move this hand you'll say it. Any other time you won't fuckin' shut up, but now?" He knew Piers was reluctant, but he wanted to hear it. He could see himself under Wesker even now. He'd made him say it then, so Piers would say it now. He sucked on the flesh that he had previously mauled, thrusting deeper every time, feeling his cock pulse while he felt blood and sweat smear between them. Tightening the grip on Piers' flesh made the younger man tense his muscles around him, letting Chris completely wreck him. He pulled back out of him, leaving that empty void between them, watching his partner fighting to say anything with his teeth chewing into his lower lip, until Chris crammed himself back inside, leaving Piers to do nothing but raggedly groan, continuing the same treatment over twice more. "Come on boy, say it. Tell me my name." Smirking he leaned his weight back, chuckling at how Piers arched against his restraints, the skin at his wrists chaffing while slammed into him. His mouth was still agape, perfectly kissable. "Stop fighting it and just do as I say, I'll give you everything you want."

He could hear Wesker behind him as he said it, a shiver running down his spine until finally he jerked his hand, the single motion enough to break Piers' resilience to the act, gasping out at his orgasm. "Wesker, fuck me." The words were strained, forceably pulled out of him as he came, but Chris relished in them, letting it wash over him, how that was how he must have sounded all those years ago. "Please captain..." He'd used that term too and it felt so damn good, hearing the man under him in such complete need. Finally he resumed his bruising pace, tormenting the ring of muscle as Piers gasped underneath him, semen mingling with the blood and sweat as Chris ran his hand through it to find Pier's throat, choking him, and muffling the noises he made. His laughter slowly turned to grunts, his stomach knotting as he felt his muscles contract and burn, listening to the ragged breathing under him, his cock throbbing. "God... Chris!" The shout was pain as Chris tightened his grip on his neck, his own climax washing over him, but the name drove him to fury, his hand clutching the knife beside them and driving it through the tissue and muscles in the flexed arm beside Piers' head. "Chris!"

"Piers, shit!" Immediately everything was gone, just the cry out of pain as the knife was yanked away, blood pouring out as Chris pulled away, horror in his eyes as he swallowed every fear he'd had and watching as it came to life there. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I didn't, just don't move alright?" He was scrambling, hands undoing everything that had held his partner in place, fighting to correct it while arms went lax from the restraints being released, the younger man instantly yanking himself away, clutching at the wound and grabbing his discarded shirt to wrap it with. "Piers, I'm sorry, god don't look at me like that, I didn't... please, stop staring at me like I tried to kill you."

"Chris you stabbed me with your combat knife!" Piers was wincing, shoving aside the blood stained blankets and pulling away from him instantly, crossing the room in a mix of blood, sweat, and semen that slipped down his body while he clung the rag to his arm, pulling the duffel at the end of the bed open with a jerk as Chris remained motionless, staring at his own hands. "You want to help sew this up or what Chris? Or would you like to watch me bleed out?" His voice was sharp and piercing on its own, puncturing the silence in the room about them by throwing things out of the bag with one hand that clanked against the wall, his captain lurching off the bed and grabbing his med kit out of the bag. He was clearly in shock, but Piers was just pissed, grabbing his rigging out of the bag as well. "You're sewing this up so don't make a mess out of my trigger arm or I'll kill you." Mechanically, he sighed out, taking a deep breath in before biting the rigging and peeling away the shirt that was now nothing but blood soaked, immediately feeling diligent fingers shaking before the needle shoved through layers of skin and tissue to pull the wound shut, gritting his teeth on the fabric in his mouth and tossing his head back. Growling against the pain.

It wasn't the first time Chris had hurt him, but t was the first time he'd done so completely unwillingly. He'd even burned his skin with a cigarette once. Before there was times where he'd knocked him clean out cold, but Piers didn't care about that because they were both playing the same game then, this was different. Piers hadn't wanted to say it in the first place, that much was obvious, but Chris had forced it out of him only to stab his partner in the arm for calling him by his real name. "Piers, I'm sorry... I this won't happen again, I told you we shouldn't be doing this, you had to do this. I warned you that we should stop. You just couldn't stay away could you, you should never have come here."

"Chris, we're partners, I'm not going to stop seeing you because you mess up once. But seriously, you stabbed me! There's nothing wrong with what we were doing and you know that, there's nothing wrong with us being together. Nothing wrong with the things you do to me, we both like it. Just sew it up, for the love of god... What's going to stop is your pretending your a psychopath!"

_Shit... he was never going to live this down..._


	4. Fragments

"What's the matter captain, does that hurt?" Piers wore a mocking tone well, a smirk lying at the corner of his mouth while he pressed a kiss over his captain's abdomen, flicking his tongue, watching him clench his eyes closed tight enough he was most likely seeing stars. "I haven't even done anything yet." When they had agreed on this little arrangement between them, Piers had naturally accepted himself to take all of his partner's punishment, he had always been submissive to Chris. That was of course under the pretense that one day, if it ever came to it and the larger man forgot himself, that Piers would be allowed to do the same to him in turn. Of course there had never been a need for that, Chris understood the line you don't cross, at least that was until the knife. He was still mildly amused that Chris had defended himself with the argument that he could take whatever Piers could dish out. He hadn't had the least idea of the intricate little details that Piers took every care to notice when they were together. Piers was used to the nagging in his brain, asking for this or that without words that he could voice because to speak was against the rules. 'That hurts,' was not allowed into his vocabulary. "You could always tap out, captain." He twisted his hand ever so slightly, his fingers stretching that tight ring of muscle that up until now Chris had never had the privilege to feel. It was entertaining watching the older man pull to the point of straining against the cuffs which held him to the bed posts, holding his arms to the sides of him with his biceps and triceps stretched to remove leverage from his range of motion, along with a makeshift collar encircling his thick neck that kept him partially sat up against the headboard unable to lean forward while he was forced to watch. "Do you understand how badly it hurt," Piers smirked, kissing over his naval while he slipped a third third finger inside him, watching the older man almost choke himself unable to stay his body from jerking against the oddity of penetration, "when you stuck that knife in my arm?"

Even though it hurt, Piers was surprisingly gentle with him. Chris understood that much. He was receiving an actual education on the things he deprived his partner. The younger man had moved achingly slow at first and he'd used a fair amount of lubrication at that, which Chris wouldn't have ever thought twice about until he was two fingers deep in him and couldn't catch his breath. Piers knew what it felt like having someone do this, and understood a great deal how hard it was to trust someone enough to touch him that way. The fact that Chris has risen to the challenge was thrilling in its own, and yes he was in pain, but Piers could have been much more cruel. He'd taken his time, talked him through it and eased him up to that point, gave him every opportunity to say no, and his mouth hadn't left his skin for more than a minute, placing reassuring kisses on his straining muscular thighs. Chris was sorry, otherwise he wouldn't be doing this, and that was the point. He gave a shit that he'd hurt Piers, and he wanted to know what it felt like to have to put your full faith in the person who's tied you down rendering him helpless.

Chris' eyes slowly peeled open, gritting his teeth while fingers stretched and rubbed along the inside of him, trying to take a regular breath again against the strap of rigging hold him tight in place. He was glowering, fighting hard against the urge to shout orders at him. Those eyes had a piercing way of looking at someone that made them want to crawl up and die, turn your stomach into a knot. If you were anyone else. Piers just laughed, teasing his fingers along the inside of him, knowing exactly what he had been seeking, until he found that bundle of nerves that almost caused the man to sputter. Those hands were deft and talented, toying with it before he could get a coherent word formed, groaning in his throat against the soreness and pleasure, conflicting his mind. "All you have to do is beg, Chris... I'll take these off, and then you can prove what a coward you really are." It gained the reaction desired, the attempt to silence himself against those fingers nudging pressure into him over and over, earning a series of half stifled moans that made Chris turn a brilliant shade of red. "Best be quiet soldier, keep running your mouth and I'll have to find something to gag it with." He chuckled, slipping his own mouth over the half erect flesh between Chris' thighs, intentionally sloppy. Chris loved hearing it, loved how hard it was for Piers to take all of him, but in this case he didn't have the luxury of making him take it. It was just warmth over his cock, urging him to full arousal while those fingers teased and pushed deeper inside him, spreading him, the burning sensation causing him to shake just the slightest. Piers pulled up, making an intentional pop noise with the suction of his lips around Chris' thick head, looking pleased while Chris bit the inside of his cheeks urging himself to silence, chocolate eyes rolled shut. "You like that captain? Maybe if you're good I'll let you cum inside me... maybe." Dipping his head down briefly he traced the cock by his face from base to tip, watching the strain in his colossal arms as they fought their bonds.

"S'okay Redfield... It'll hurt, but I'm sure you can take it, right?" The bit off words wrapped around Chris like a coat, and sent the man to break out in a sheen of sweat that clung between them, the fingers inside Chris twisting and bringing an unbidden moan before finally slipping away. "Do you want to call me captain?" He full out smiled with the expression on Chris' face that screamed he was both absolutely livid and completely aching for it. Of course what he was aching for was to fuck Piers into the mattress, not to let his partner educate him on what it was like to have someone balls deep in his ass. "I promise I'll treat you exactly the same as you treat me..." He chuckled, leaning forward over the broad body beneath him, hands finding his hips, and feeling the tremor rack his body when Piers slipped himself to press his own arousal between Chris' cheeks, leaning forward despite himself to kiss Chris. It was calming in it's own, meant to relax the man under him. Chris claimed his mouth easily, even from beneath him, deepening the kiss happily, until he felt Piers shift, pulling his head back.

"Piers... wait." Piers immediately set to laughing, leaning back on his heels to shake his head, running his hand over one of Chris' ass cheeks, slapping it hard enough to leave a red mark that raised immediately under his fingers, tingling flesh causing the captain to groan. "I..." It was so hard to admit defeat, particularly with that smug look on his partner's face while he traced the welt, peeling it away only to send a resounding sound of flesh on flesh, and Chris yelling against it, the walls swallowing his groan. "Fuck! How hard do you plan on making this?" Red, raw flesh almost made him cry out when the younger man slapped him one more time, fingers digging into his hips briefly and shoving his weight forward the head of his cock threatening to push inside the sore hole in his ass. "Alright, damnit! Break!... Fuck Piers, don't even think about it!"

Piers smile changed completely, the natural ease of switching from a man in control to the subordinate taking its simple effect and leaning forward to unclasp the cuffs on both wrists. "You look good with a collar captain," undoing the piece that held him in place about his thick neck. "I almost thought you'd make me do it too. Don't get me wrong, you're tough, but you couldn't have taken me."

Red rings surrounded Chris' thick wrists while he shot a permeating stare directly at his younger partner, brawny hands moving to lightly rub over the irritated skin of his wrists. "You've got a big mouth for a bottom, you know that?" Reaching out, his hand taking a strong grip upon Piers' wrist as the handcuffs were plucked easily from his fingers, the larger man briefly averting his gaze to look down upon the tools of restraint which had constricted around his wrists. Despite his wrists, they hadn't been the pain that still gave him ache. "Couldn't have taken you, Nivans? Try and say that while I'm stretching _you_ out like a rubber band." He reached up with a hand to pat against the cheek of Piers' face, a playful gesture, however, the smacking sound it made spoke volumes in the pent up vengeance he had yet to wrought. "Hands behind your back, soldier. Time to see what you're willing to do for your country."

* * *

**Tada! The end!**


End file.
